So last night Ian’s at the unit working and I’m in bed reading
my book when there’s a massive thud on
my bedroom window. At first I think it’s Jasper [hush, I know, but I was in book-head. I wasn’t
thinking properly about real life] but then I hear him downstairs, so it can’t
be. And then it happens again.
Thud.
Thud.
Loud and solid against my bedroom window. My upstairs bedroom window. My heart starts
to race a little bit because it’s dark outside and something is banging on my
bedroom window [thud] and all I have
for protection is the world’s most skittish cat. Nothing about this is fine and
it plays right into the hands of all my fears – I’m not going to lie; when I’m
home alone I do jump at every creaking floorboard and jump across the landing when
I have to cross the top of the stairs to the bathroom. I am that girl – and I’m
just sat frozen for a second, Kindle in white-knuckled hand, staring at the gap
in the curtains.
It happens again.
Thud.
My first instinct is
to call Ian and demand he come home; he did sign up to be my knight in shining
hoody after all and I'm so scared I feel a little sick, but then I think no. It’s 2013 and I am not a damsel in distress. I can deal with this headless zombiefied ghost
murderer monster [PROBABLY IT’S VOLDEMORT!] that is trying to break into my
house and I can deal with it on my own, thank-you very much, who needs a man – yeah I know, you can just call me
Hermione. I slip slowly, quietly out of bed, shiver a little because despite my
flannel pj’s and fleecy poncho it’s still cold outside of the covers, and
tiptoe towards the window. I get hold of the curtain, I take a deep breath and
I pull it back, hard, in one swift movement.
There’s nothing
there.
At least, not at
eye-level. There are some odd round white marks though, here and there on the
glass. Like, like snow. I look down.
There on the street
is Ian looking up and waving, a massive grin on his face and my panda hat
[complete with bear ears] atop his head. I wave back, and he jumps up and down
on the spot, the ears on his hat bouncing
with the movement, and grabs another handful of snow from the top of my car,
throwing it up at the window and it still makes me jump as it hits the glass,
even though I know it’s coming. He
punches the air, grabs another handful and I laugh partly in relief and partly because
he looks so damn adorable and I think God, I love that boy.
